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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27853802">At Arkanis</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim'>Asher_Ephraim</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse of Authority, Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arkanis Academy (Star Wars), Barebacking, Canon Universe, Cock Slapping, Coercion, Come Swallowing, Face-Fucking, Heavy Angst, Humiliation, Hurt No Comfort, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Porn Watching, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Public Blow Jobs, Slurs, Slut Shaming, Smoking, Threats, Underage Rape/Non-con, Underage Smoking, Verbal Abuse, Victim Blaming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:35:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con, Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27853802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher_Ephraim/pseuds/Asher_Ephraim</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Brendol Hux’s sudden demise, Allegiant General Enric Pryde steps in as acting Headmaster of Arkanis Academy. He calls Cadet Dopheld Mitaka into his office to discuss certain activities captured by locker room security camera: to discipline him… and to teach him to do better in future.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dopheld Mitaka/Enric Pryde, Dopheld Mitaka/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>At Arkanis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dopheld grits his teeth and gives the buzzer a tentative push, perhaps hoping that if Pryde doesn’t hear him, he’ll forget all about their meeting. After all, he must have better things to do with his time.</p><p>It’s not a meeting, though. It’s a call into the headmaster’s office, the first in his life. And although he hasn’t been informed of the reason, there’s really only one option. It certainly isn’t about his marks; he’s currently tied for second in his class—and his competition is faltering now that their maths courses are ratcheting up in complexity.</p><p>“Enter,” a voice calls from within.</p><p>The door slides open. Dopheld sucks in a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and steps inside. “Sir?” he asks, his voice already wavering. “You asked to see me?”</p><p>With a stylus held between two fingers, Pryde waves him in. “I did indeed. Have a seat, Mitaka, then we’ll discuss why you’re here.”</p><p>He only perches on the edge of the seat, too nervous to sit any farther back. He clasps his hands together and pins them between his knees so their shaking won’t be noticeable. Only then does he raise his eyes to look at Pryde, and only because he has to.</p><p>The man lets out a quiet sigh and he sounds genuinely reluctant to launch into business. “Please understand, conversations like this are truly the worst part of my job here. Although I’ve only recently stepped into this role, and only in an acting capacity, I consider this position to be one of an educator first, an administrator second, and a disciplinarian last.” He cocks his head. “<em>Yet.</em> There are certain behaviours I cannot countenance, as if left unchecked they will cause a cadet no end of trouble after receiving their commission. Besides, discipline has an undeniable, if unpleasant, role in education.”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Dopheld agrees miserably. He knows where this is headed, and he’s dreading the arrival. Since Pryde doesn’t seem keen on it either, he wonders if they could simply skirt around the topic as long as he agrees to comport himself properly in the future.</p><p>“Your academic performance is unassailable. That much goes without saying.”</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” he responds, figuring this will be the last complimentary remark Pryde gives him today.</p><p>“However, I’ve come across evidence of out-of-class activities that fall so far outside the realm of the acceptable, they must be dealt with immediately.” He looks down at the screen of his tablet and frowns. “I’m in possession of security footage from the boys’ locker room in Osk-2, from three nights ago at 2242. Well after curfew, I might add.”</p><p>He pauses, and Dopheld feels obliged to fill the silence with some sort of acknowledgement. “Yes, sir.” He doesn’t need to be told what activities the video had documented; he can recall quite vividly without any reminder. At least it explains how Pryde found out; he’d been suspecting one of the other boys had informed on him.</p><p>“Shall I play a relevant portion?”</p><p>Meekly, Dopheld manages to say, “I’d prefer if you didn’t, sir.” He has never been particularly adept at standing up for himself, particularly with authority figures. His deference runs bone-deep. But his instinctive desperation to avoid outright humiliation is even stronger.</p><p>Pryde tilts his head, as though considering Mitaka’s request. “Hmm. I feel an illustration may be particularly… instructive, though.” He taps at the screen before turning it partway around so they can both view it. “You needn’t worry about anyone overhearing. This office is sound-proofed.”</p><p>The footage isn’t high-definition, but the scene it captured is clear enough. Dopheld is seated on a bench, circled by three other cadets, all male, all with their trousers open or down. When his recorded image ducks down to start blowing the first, Dopheld flushes and glances up at Pryde.</p><p>It’s a mistake. Their eyes meet just as a loud sucking sound emanates from the speaker.</p><p>“Fuck yes, baby,” the other boy groans. “That’s so fucking good.”</p><p>Dopheld’s face is burning and Pryde’s intense stare isn’t doing him any favours.</p><p>“D’you swallow?” the boy asks.</p><p>The video version of Dopheld pulls off with a pop to answer, “For a second cigarra, yeah.”</p><p>Dopheld squeezes his eyes shut in abject horror. He’d been hoping the audio quality wouldn’t be good enough to record that line of dialogue for posterity. When he recovers enough to open his eyes, it’s to discover that Pryde is giving him a cold smile.</p><p>“Well,” Pryde begins, stopping the replay with a tap of his stylus, placing the tablet screen-down on the desk, and folding his hands on top of it. “Were you the subject of this video?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” Dopheld mumbles.</p><p>“Cadet Mitaka,” the headmaster continues with a slow, disappointed shake of his head. “I have <em>no</em> words,” he declares heavily—before proceeding to undermine that statement. “The gross public indecency, the lewd activity with multiple participants, your shameless and casual attitude throughout the proceedings… All of that would be horrifying enough. But to add <em>prostitution </em>to the mix—” He rises, plants his gloved palms on the desk, and leans over it. “For fuck’s sake, Mitaka, what the hell is wrong with you?”</p><p>Shrinking in on himself, Dopheld stutters, “I just… I’m sorry, sir, but. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.” He’d known full well he was being slutty, but he hadn’t considered it prostitution. After all, he hadn’t been doing it for the cigarras alone—or even primarily.</p><p>“Not ‘that big of a deal’?” Pryde quotes him in a disbelieving tone. “What, you whored yourself out for a good laugh?”</p><p>“It was a bit of fun, sir. That’s all.”</p><p>“Tell me something, Mitaka. How many cigarras did you bring in that evening?”</p><p>He thinks back and answers truthfully before it even occurs to him to lie, to say he doesn’t remember. “Eleven, sir.” After all, Pryde may have watched the entire encounter already, and Dopheld doesn’t want to be caught in a falsehood.</p><p>“I thought the price to use and finish in your mouth was two.”</p><p>Dopheld employs Pryde’s terminology in his response. “I, um, one finished on my face, sir.”</p><p>“So: five blowjobs and a facial?”</p><p>Dopheld starts at Pryde’s suddenly coarse language, but there’s really no point in trying to be tactful about the topic. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Filthy. And you know what, Mitaka?” Pryde walks to the other side of the desk, stands behind the cadet’s chair, and leans down to speak directly in his ear. “I can tell what you are, even though you probably think you hide it well beneath that exterior of propriety and intellect. You’re a dirty, cheap little <em>whore. </em>Aren’t you?”</p><p>Dopheld shivers.</p><p>“Answer me, Cadet.”</p><p>His throat is dry but he forces himself to swallow first. “Yes, sir.” He supposes it’s true.</p><p>“Say it all aloud for me.”</p><p>“I’m—I’m a, a dirty little whore, sir.”</p><p>Pryde straightens up to his full height and places a congenial hand on Mitaka’s shoulder, pats it briefly. “And cheap,” he adds in reminder. “Two cigarras for a blowjob, even at a low skill level, is incredibly inexpensive.” He leans back against the desk and looks down at the student. “At your age and with your innocent-looking face, I’m sure you could charge significantly more.” He reaches out and presses Dopheld’s lower lip down with a gloved thumb. “Why don’t you show me what this mouth is worth?”</p><p>“I’m sorry, sir?” Surely the headmaster is simply trying to drive his case home, to make Dopheld feel sufficiently humiliated to change his conduct. Maker knows he’s already regretting many of his recent personal activities.</p><p>“You fucking heard me,” Pryde hisses, dropping his hand from Dopheld’s mouth to his belt buckle. Unclipping it and sliding it off, he continues. “Get on your skinny little knees and demonstrate what you’re good for.”</p><p><em>Oh Maker, he</em><em>’s serious</em>, Dopheld realises. He isn’t just trying to make a rhetorical point. He’s actually asking a cadet—<em>Dopheld, specifically</em>—to blow him. Here. Now.</p><p>Stunned, he sinks to the floor. What choice does he have, anyway? He looks straight ahead, staring at the creases of Pryde's trousers. They’re starched and folded to regulation crispness.</p><p>“Speaking of age, boy, how old are you exactly?”</p><p>“Sixteen, sir.” Perhaps Pryde is asking because he has a minimum threshold, and perhaps it’s older and Dopheld can just get up off the floor and leave—</p><p>But Pryde is nodding. “Good. And as for experience, how many boys have you blown?”</p><p>“Ah, maybe fifteen or twenty, sir?”</p><p>“Also good. Enough to have learnt the basics, not so many as to be beyond training.” He smiles down at the cadet. “And I know you’re a quick study. I’ll have you servicing men properly in no time at all. How does that sound?”</p><p>He opens his mouth but only emits an odd sort of click from the back of his throat.</p><p>Pryde wraps his right hand around Dopheld’s neck and lightly presses a thumb against his windpipe. It causes no physical constriction—yet. “I asked you,” the headmaster intones in a gravelly voice, “How the <em>fuck</em> does that sound, you pointless little bitch?”</p><p>“It sounds good, sir!” Dopheld answers in such a desperate rush that he nearly sounds enthusiastic. After all, he’s enthusiastically opposed to being choked.</p><p>Pacified for the moment, Pryde smiles, removes his hand, and orders, “Now open that pretty mouth. Wider. Like a sex doll. Good.” He flicks his fly open and pulls out his cock, which has already begun hardening. He gives it a few slow strokes, right in front of Dopheld’s face, then swipes the head along the <em>o</em> of the boy’s lips, leaving a smear of precome in its trail like a layer of gloss. “Don’t move yet, just let me play with you a bit.” He holds Dopheld’s head in place with a hand twisted in his hair. “But be sure to keep that cock-sucking mouth open.”</p><p>He lays the crown of his cock on Dopheld’s tongue and slides it in about an inch before pulling it back.</p><p>“Stick your tongue out.” Once Dopheld obeys, Pryde slaps the head against it repeatedly, until it grows numb and the cadet can only count the impacts by sight and sound. “Now give me that sex doll <em>o</em> again, sweetheart. I’ll show you how a man ought to use a hot, wet hole.”</p><p>Pulling his tongue back into his mouth, Dopheld rounds his lips and tries to ignore the man’s words. He just focuses on keeping his lips in a circle and breathing through his nose as Pryde cants his hips, edging his cock deeper into the boy’s mouth.</p><p>He gags and shudders when it hits his uvula, but Pryde takes hold of him by the hair on the top of his head and keeps him steady. “Now, now, don’t go anywhere. Sluts don’t back off of a dick, not when it’s just starting to get good.”</p><p>Dopheld has sucked about twenty dicks and until now had figured he knew what blowjobs entailed, but this is something new. All those previous dicks belonged to boys around his age, maybe a few years older, and they’d always been content to let him go at his own pace, get a feel for things, even play around a bit. They were happy enough to get someone’s mouth on them at all, and generally didn’t last more than five minutes.</p><p>He’s never had someone twist his hair tightly enough to make his scalp burn. Or had that hand pull him back and forth, like he’s nothing more than a mechanical aid to pleasure. They have certainly hit the five-minute mark but Pryde seems no closer to orgasm, although his voice is rougher. Dopheld’s throat is already sore and thick strings of saliva are dangling from the corners of his mouth. It’s disgusting enough that his attention is floating back to the words coming from the headmaster, the stream of filth he’d been attempting to tune out.</p><p>“That’s it, boy. Now you’re learning. I doubt anyone has ever fucked your pretty face before. Such a pity, since this is what you’re made for.” He hums happily before enquiring, “Are you ready for a bit of a challenge, Cadet?”</p><p>As if gathering sufficient air through your nostrils while your headmaster batters the back of your throat with his cock weren’t challenge enough. But he nods. It’s too late to argue now.</p><p>Astonishingly, Pryde lets go of him. “Take a slow, deep breath, sweetheart. You’ll need it.”</p><p>He pants in short bursts for a few moments before processing the directive. Then he pulls in air and once his lungs are finally full again, Pryde interlaces the fingers of both hands around the back of Dopheld’s skull and brings him back in.</p><p>“All the way down this time. All. The way. Down.”</p><p>The crown skids along Dopheld’s palate, then once again hits the back of his throat, right where it’s already bruised. But unlike before, Pryde continues to sink down his throat. The impulse to cough blossoms into panic. The only thing he wants is the air he can’t have. He shudders in Pryde’s hold, suddenly terrified of blacking out on the headmaster’s dick. What might the man do if he were to fall unconscious?</p><p>“This is what you’ve been training for, Mitaka. This is how whores get used. Because while a boyfriend will suck a dick, a worthless cunt like you will fucking choke on it.” He laughs derisively. “So, choke on mine. Go on. I don’t care if you sound like you’re gagging to death.”</p><p>Dopheld’s shoulders twitch. He attempts to flail his arms. But although Pryde is wiry, he’s deceptively strong. The cadet tries to cough but with his airway blocked, it doesn’t turn out well. Instead he makes an awful sound, something like <em>gluk</em>, and not at all the sort of noise a healthy human should make. Snot bubbles out of his nostrils and if shame were fatal, Dopheld would expire on the spot.</p><p>But the headmaster keeps his grip steady. “Ten more seconds, Mitaka. Then you can breathe again.” He begins counting aloud, but Dopheld’s hearing fades at four. The next thing he knows, he’s doubled over, hacking saliva onto the floor and gulping down air. His vision is full of sparkling lights. His stomach is cramping. He wonders how close he was to passing out. Vaguely he becomes aware of a rhythmic wet noise but it takes probably a full minute before he recognises it as Pryde wanking. Using his spittle as lube.</p><p>The toe of a boot taps his shoulder.</p><p>“Still with me, boy? Or will I need to turn you over and use your other hole?”</p><p>That has Dopheld paying attention. “No, sir,” he rasps. “You needn’t… do that.”</p><p>“You’re still a half-virgin, then?”</p><p>“I… Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Saving yourself?” Pryde asks with a scoff of derision.</p><p>“I don’t know, sir,” Dopheld mumbles, because he doesn’t owe Pryde a proper explanation but the man has demonstrated again and again that his questions must be answered.</p><p>“Stand up.”</p><p>Dopheld uses both hands to push himself up, but the instant he’s in motion, his vision darkens and the blinking lights make a dazzling reappearance. Pryde catches him before he can fall back to the floor—and takes the opportunity to grope his ass.</p><p>“Mm. Nice, very nice. I really ought to fuck you, you know. Before one of those foolish boys gets in first. A slut like you should be opened up by a man who knows what he’s doing.”</p><p>Weary and dizzy, Dopheld begins to cry. “Please, sir, please don’t.” The tears stream down his cheeks, mingling with his saliva as they pass the corners of his mouth.</p><p>“Oh, darling,” Pryde says softly, cupping Dopheld’s face in both hands and kissing his forehead. “It isn’t so bad. And you’ll learn to love it, I’m sure. It won’t take you long to become addicted to the feeling of a cock deep inside your pretty little body.”</p><p>He trembles and lets out a sob.</p><p>“Hush now. Why don’t you suck on me some more? I won’t even choke you; you can just do what you usually do with your mouth.”</p><p>Dopheld nods fiercely, overwhelmed with relief at Pryde’s offer. The headmaster reclines in his desk chair and waves him over. He stumbles a bit on his way down but soon settles between the man’s knees and ducks his head down.</p><p>“But wipe off your face first. You look a right mess.”</p><p>Ashamed that he hadn’t considered his appearance, Dopheld looks around for something to use to rectify the situation.</p><p>“Your undershirt will do.”</p><p>But that would necessitate removing his tunic first.</p><p>“Go on,” Pryde prompts.</p><p>His fingers work clumsily to unfasten the clasp at his throat. He keeps his head down, focusing on his assigned task. Once his tunic is unbuttoned to his waist, he realises his belt is still in the way. Dopheld lets out a sad little hiccough of failure as he scrambles to unbuckle it.</p><p>“Maker, have you forgotten how to undress?” Pryde asks with a ridiculing laugh. “I must have skull-fucked you stupid. Hopefully it’s temporary.”</p><p>Tears collect on the tip of his nose and he wipes them onto the back of his wrist in a desperate attempt to hide them from Pryde. “I’m sorry, sir,” he sniffles.</p><p>Pryde sneers at his poorly concealed display of weakness. “Well, if you’re unable to finish your studies, I’ll find something to keep you busy. Since you’ve already demonstrated an aptitude for sex work, it’ll be a natural fit for you.”</p><p>Dopheld finally manages to peel his tunic off and he folds it up diligently before setting it aside on the floor. Pinching the hem of his undershirt between a thumb and forefinger, he begins to pull it up toward his face.</p><p>“No, not like that,” Pryde snaps, grabbing the swagger stick leaning against his desk and using it to swat the fabric out of Dopheld’s hand. “Remove it entirely, then use it as a towel. For fuck’s sake, Mitaka. I do hope you can still manage to work your mouth.”</p><p>The whole point behind this strategy was to avoid ending up bare-chested, but Pryde’s order renders that impossible. Dopheld isn’t thrilled with his chest in its current state, as he’s softer than most of the boys in his year. Not overweight, just not well defined. And with the removal of each article of clothing, he grows more skittish, as though he’s walking deeper into a trap.</p><p>“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, I assure you.”</p><p>Just to shut Pryde up, he quickly pulls the shirt over his head, like he’s ripping off an adhæsive bandage. Then he roughly rubs it over his entire face, balls it up, and tosses it aside. There. Done. He lifts his eyes to check if the general is satisfied.</p><p>The look Pryde is giving his half-naked body is one of calculating hunger. The man's mouth turns up ever so slightly at one corner, giving the distinct impression of amusement. It drives home that Dopheld is just a brief entertainment session for him, a diverting detour from his temporary assignment here. Pryde will leave Arkanis once a full-time headmaster is selected, but a part of Dopheld will remain in this room.</p><p>“Oh, you pretty thing. Get closer, let me touch you.”</p><p>So far, Pryde’s hands have only made direct contact with his head, face, and throat. Dopheld warily slides forward, and Pryde rests the stick across his lap before leaning down.</p><p>“Are these sensitive?” the headmaster asks moments before pinching both his nipples and giving them a hard half-turn.</p><p>Dopheld gasps, bites down on his lower lip, and his cock begins to fill. He nods, but he knows the answer was already apparent.</p><p>“Good. I like that in a boy. Now, put your mouth back where it belongs.” He leans back in his chair, legs spread, cock gently bobbing in the air between them, and waves the cadet forward. He sighs when Dopheld ducks his head down and begins to lick circles around the head.</p><p>“That’s right. I can tell you love this.” He taps the stick between Dopheld’s legs. “Are you hard for me yet?”</p><p>Just to underscore his shame, his dick gives a treacherous twitch. He shrugs. “A little, sir,” he admits as he works Pryde’s shaft with a loose fist. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, but now that Pryde isn’t cutting off his air or bruising his throat, it’s similar enough to the blowjobs he’s wanted to give.</p><p>“Well, once my balls are soaked with your drool, you can put a hand down your pants. Give that little boy-dick a good jerk. How does that sound?”</p><p>He shrugs again but it must look enough like a nod. Especially with the way he’s now bobbing his head up and down. He’s giving Pryde’s cock everything he has, hoping to get the man off soon and get out of here. Put as much distance between them as possible.</p><p>Pryde reaches over to the desk to pull a drawer open, and Dopheld immediately lifts his gaze to watch. His pulse thuds as he worries just what the man might be fetching. But he calms a bit when he recognises it as a sparker and pack of cigarras. Pryde slides one out, sets the filter between his lips, and lights it.</p><p>“Speaking of my balls, Mitaka, why don’t you suck on those for a while?” He bats Dopheld’s hand out of the way to take hold of his wet cock, lifting it up while Dopheld attempts to figure out how to position his head to get his mouth on the man’s sac. “Don’t just mouth them, Cadet. I told you to <em>suck</em>.”</p><p>He hollows his cheeks. The better he is at obeying Pryde’s whims, the sooner this will be over. He can head back to the dormitory to wash his face and brush his teeth before dinner this evening. Rinse Pryde off his skin and out of his mouth.</p><p>“There you go. Just one more thing: Look up at me. Show me those big, innocent eyes.”</p><p>He continues to work and it makes a series of truly undignified slurps. His face burns.</p><p>“Oh, Mitaka,” Pryde enthuses, exhaling a plume of smoke. “You’re positively adorable when you blush. Does your arse turn pink, too?”</p><p>He blinks, stunned by the question.</p><p>“You can pause to answer me.”</p><p>“I, uh, I don’t know, sir.”</p><p>Pryde begins to move his fist steadily, wanking as he speaks. “Let’s chat a moment. And just to make it interesting, you’re going to let me slap you silly with my cock. Well, sillier.”</p><p>Dopheld hasn’t seen much pornography, what with cadets’ access to the holonet strictly limited and monitored. So he isn’t sure precisely what that term entails, but he nods demurely and says, “Yes, sir.” After all, he can’t imagine a situation in which he’d feel able to decline the headmaster, and that realisation makes him queasy.</p><p>“I know you’ve never been fucked, but have you ever taken anything up your arsehole?”</p><p>“No, sir.”</p><p>“Not even a finger?”</p><p>He shakes his head and Pryde chases it with his dick, landing a blow to each cheek in turn.</p><p>“Ever dressed in girls’ clothes?” Pryde asks, continuing to smack Dopheld’s face with the full length of his wet cock. The sound alone is humiliating, but the cadet supposes that’s rather the point.</p><p>“No, sir.”</p><p>“I’d love to put you in stockings and a tiny skirt and watch you squirm your way onto a fat dildo. See just how much you could take.” He smiles dreamily. “It’s amazing what the human body can accommodate, given patience and lubricant. Enough talking, now. Get those balls back in your greedy mouth. Don’t be shy, either. I want to see drool dribbling down your chin.”</p><p>He leans back in his chair, tilting his face toward the ceiling. “Hell, if I were a younger man, I’d be able to paint that sweet face and ten minutes later get hard enough to fuck another load up your arse.” He cards his fingers through Dopheld’s hair. “As it is, I’ll have to make some choices. And put off other activities for another day.” With a put-upon sigh, he proceeds to smoke in silence for a handful of minutes.</p><p>Dopheld appreciates the relative reprieve and takes the opportunity to return to sucking the general off. He puts a great deal of effort into it, to the point that an observer would be forgiven for thinking the cadet were downright enthusiastic, that Allegiant General Pryde must be the embodiment of his fantasies. He even cradles Pryde’s sack with his off-hand, massaging it gently as he uses his other hand to keep the shaft slicked up with his spit as he suckles the head. Pryde didn’t teach him everything, after all.</p><p>“Ohh, you are going to bring in good money once I turn you out.” The general stubs his cigarra out in the tray on his desk before sliding his hand over Dopheld’s shoulder, down his back, and beneath the waistband of his trousers, inside his briefs. A finger slips between his cheeks. Dopheld freezes.</p><p>“Don’t you <em>dare </em>stop working my cock until I tell you to. Because I’ve decided I’m going to arse-fuck you, and I can make it relatively painless or I can make it agonising.”</p><p>Pryde’s cock slips back down his throat and this time Dopheld doesn’t gag. His reflexes seem to be as stunned as his mind.</p><p>When the headmaster sits back, he holds Dopheld down for a count of ten before pushing him off him with a hand on each shoulder. “Stand up and turn around.”</p><p>The cadet stumbles upright, wiping his mouth and chin on the back of a hand.</p><p>“Drop your trousers and briefs, then bend forward over the desk.”</p><p>As he turns, Dopheld surveys the room where he’ll be losing his virginity. He’d always imagined his first time would be in a bed with a boyfriend. He hadn’t expected it to be perfect or even painless, just not like this, with his hands shaking as he disrobes for a man whose first name he doesn’t even know.</p><p>Once his briefs join his crumpled trousers at his ankles, he leans forward.</p><p>“A good start. But you’ll need to spread your legs a bit more for me to get between them.” He uses a hand to guide Dopheld’s legs apart and the cadet permits himself to be positioned like a doll. There’s no point in attempting to either help or hinder. He lies with his forehead resting on his crossed forearms and waits, for further direction or further humiliation, whichever comes first.</p><p>Bent forward over the desk like this, the toes of Dopheld’s boots barely brush the floor. Pryde removes his gloves, spreads the cadet’s ass with his bare hands, and leans down to spit along the crack. He uses a fingertip to rub the saliva around Dopheld’s hole, then dips it inside, like he’s testing the water. “You’re going to need some work if I’m not going to tear you open on the way in. Just bear with me while I get you ready.”</p><p>He reaches over and pulls a drawer open. Removing a small bottle from inside, he pops the cap and advises Dopheld, “This will feel cold. Try not to tense up, it’ll only prolong things. And delay the enjoyment, both yours and mine.”</p><p>Dopheld lifts his face just enough to study the surface of the desk while Pryde slicks up his fingers and slips one inside. He keeps his jaw clenched shut to prevent any pathetic noises from leaving his mouth. At least it doesn’t hurt, but it isn’t exactly comfortable.</p><p>“You’re so tight,” Pryde marvels. “There’s nothing in the galaxy as excruciatingly sweet as opening up a boy for the first time. It’s a good thing I’ve done this before, as I know how to do it right. I shan’t hurt you unless you give me cause so to do.”</p><p>Pryde may be framing it as though he’s doing the cadet a favour, but Dopheld can recognise a veiled threat, and he can’t contain a weak whimper.</p><p>“Shh. You can take it, you just need to accept that your body was made for this. Let me demonstrate.” He pulls his hand back, slipping the finger out. There’s the sound of more lubricant being squeezed out of the bottle, then Dopheld gasps at the cold intrusion as Pryde introduces two fingers at once. “Breathe, Mitaka. And here we go.” He begins moving his hand back and forth, just short little motions, but with increasing speed. “Listen to your hole getting all wet and ready for me. For my cock.” He lets out a quiet laugh. “Because Maker knows, <em>I</em><em>’m </em>ready for you.”</p><p>Dopheld shuts his eyes briefly, but that only seems to make the obscene noises louder.</p><p>“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” Pryde growls, “your tiny little arsehole will be numb for days.”</p><p>The mismatch between Pryde’s fierce enthusiasm and Dopheld’s terror has the cadet’s breath catching in his throat. “Please, sir—”</p><p>“Don’t argue. I promise I’ll make your first time memorable.”</p><p>He doesn’t doubt that. Nor does he doubt that if he continues to protest, Pryde will make things as agonising as possible. What exactly could he reasonably plead for, anyway? Not a sudden dismissal from the office, there’s no hope of that now that Pryde has lubed up his hole and gotten his fingers inside. Not when his hard cock is tapping insistently against Dopheld’s thigh. He could beg for mercy, for gentleness, but honestly, he doubts Pryde would comprehend those words.</p><p>“I’d be remiss if I didn’t make something perfectly clear before I proceed. Regarding the topic of your silence.”</p><p>In response, Dopheld remains silent. He’s too preoccupied trying not to fight the stretch from Pryde’s fingers, as the allegiant general is gradually spreading his two fingers apart. It’s beginning to burn, and he isn’t sure if holding his breath or breathing steadily would be the best way to deal with it.</p><p>“Should you breathe a single <em>word</em> about what happened in this office today, I will ensure that your video goes viral overnight. Everyone at Arkanis Academy will associate your name with one thing: tawdry, essentially anonymous blowjobs in exchange for cigarras. Your career as an officer will be over before it’s begun. Is that understood?”</p><p>“Yes, sir.” It hadn’t occurred to him to turn Pryde in for this. Dopheld may be sixteen, but he isn’t entirely naïve. Yes, reporting would damage Pryde’s position—but it would <em>destroy</em> his own.</p><p>“I’d be the war hero who succumbed to momentary temptation. You’d just be the manipulative little slut who used his body to keep his amateur porn from going public.”</p><p>The cadet nods. “I know, sir. I shan’t tell anyone.”</p><p>“Good, I had you figured for an obedient creature. No real spine, just a nice body and an acceptance of your place. You’ll make a fine junior officer.”</p><p>The characterisation hits him as painfully accurate. He’s the sort of boy who wouldn’t even consider resisting the predations of someone like Pryde. He knows his place here is on the very bottom rung.</p><p>“Almost ready. As ready as you’ll ever be, that is. Some things can only be learned by experience.” He removes his fingers slowly, cautiously, then taps Dopheld’s hole almost fondly. “I’ll take my time, I swear.” He lines up his cock and starts by rubbing the head in circles around the outer ring. “I’ll take… my fucking… time,” he breathes, and begins to push in.</p><p>There’s a dull pressure at first, just the feeling of a blunt object poking at his skin. But there’s something missing from this complex equation, something in the back of his mind that he hasn’t fully factored in. Something to do with the heat of Pryde’s bare flesh pressed against him, demanding access to Dopheld’s insides—</p><p><em>Fuck.</em> There’s no condom. Pryde isn’t wearing one and even if there were time, Dopheld daren’t ask. And now there’s a sudden give from his own body and Dopheld gulps in fear as he understands that the head of Pryde’s cock has slipped inside him. This is it, it’s happening, there’s no pretending, no reversing course now. He’s no longer a virgin, he’s changed for ever, and Allegiant General Pryde was the man to change him.</p><p>The man stills and shifts his hands onto Dopheld’s hips. “Maker,” he moans, his voice soft as he seems to be talking to himself. “Cock-sucking virgins are my absolute favourite. All your drool on my dick, plus the lube, that work with my fingers, and <em>still </em>I barely fit in here.”</p><p>Dopheld doesn’t need to be told. He can hardly breathe.</p><p>“Do try to relax. I’m not even moving yet. You’ll need to either give me room or I will <em>make </em>room.”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” he gasps.</p><p>“Let me in, boy, don’t bother fighting it. You can be good, you can take it all. You should be grateful I’m not larger.”</p><p>His eyes burn with the prelude to tears, his lower lip is numb where it’s pinned between his teeth. He says nothing. After perhaps a minute—although tracking time is currently a tricky proposition—the panic starts to recede, and with it, the searing pain. But still he is not grateful. There is no space in his mind for gratitude.</p><p>“Now there’s progress. Take a deep breath for me, Cadet.”</p><p>As Dopheld sucks in air, Pryde sinks further inside him. But instead of blacking out or screaming, he simply blinks.</p><p>“Balls deep,” the headmaster announces. “Now I’m going to rail you. You needn’t do a thing other than lie there and be young and pretty.”</p><p><em>Good</em>, Dopheld thinks, because he doubts there’s much else he could do. Pryde’s hands latch onto his shoulders, he begins to thrust, and at the deep end of each stroke, Dopheld lets out a quiet, resigned grunt.</p><p>The headmaster leans forward and places his lips against Dopheld’s jugular. The cadet’s skin crawls and he attempts to shy away, though there’s nowhere for him to go, held in Pryde’s grasp and speared on his cock.</p><p>“Let me be nice to you,” he orders. “I want to leave you with some pleasant memories.”</p><p>He already <em>has </em>pleasant memories. Card nights with friends. Summer evenings on his grandparents’ farm. His acceptance to Arkanis. Allegiant General Pryde will not be joining the ranks of those recollections.</p><p>“You’re lovely,” Pryde murmurs, pausing to leave another unwanted kiss on Dopheld’s cheek.</p><p>“Thank you, sir,” Dopheld answers, a rote recitation. Because it’s what is expected of him: a show of subservience that eclipses all regard for himself. If he wants to make anything of his life, if he’s to avoid decades of farming a dusty parcel of land on a backwater rock like his entire family, this is the price. He’ll pay, and he’ll survive, and eventually he may even thrive. But that doesn’t mean he will forgive.</p><p>Pryde wipes his forehead on his arm. “Fucking hell, Mitaka. You’re so pretty right now, split open on my dick. It’s bloody gorgeous. Shame I can’t record this. Stupid fucking laws. If you’re already making amateur pornography with your classmates, I don’t see why an age difference should matter.” He sighs before hunching over Dopheld’s back and returning to rhythmically thrusting. “Such a sweet little cunt. And it’s all mine.”</p><p>“Yessir,” Dopheld agrees numbly. “All yours.” He wonders what exactly their age difference is. At least thirty years, possibly closer to forty. Which would make it two generations. Abruptly he attempts to abandon this train of thought before he arrives at the conclusion that Pryde may very well be the age of his grandfather.</p><p>“Actually, that gives me an idea.” He reaches over Dopheld’s shoulder and flips his tablet open. After a moment of tapping at the screen, he orders, “Look and watch.”</p><p>Above the surface of the desk, just in front of Dopheld’s face, a holo display snaps into focus.</p><p>
  <em>“Maker, yeah, earn that fucking cigarra—”</em>
</p><p>Dopheld chokes.</p><p>“In the future, you might want to slow down a bit. Take your time. You don’t need to get everyone off as quickly as possible, you know.”</p><p>He wants to explain that considering the venue, none of them had the luxury of prolonging things. They’d already taken enough risks by sneaking out after curfew to hook up in a semi-public location.</p><p>
  <em>“Dopheld, you ready?”</em>
</p><p>“Oh, this must be the facial. Here’s a tip, Mitaka. This would be a perfect opportunity to suck on some balls. Don’t make him do all the work, not when he’s about to do you the favour of painting your face.”</p><p>He blinks heavily, feeling dizzily detached from reality as he watches the boy’s shoulders tremble an instant before climax. The Dopheld in the holo grins and slowly wipes the streaks of come from his face. He looks imminently pleased with himself, and the Dopheld bent over the desk would dearly like to kick him in the nuts.</p><p>“You should leave it on. Better aesthetics for the camera.”</p><p>“I wasn’t thinking about the camera, sir.” As soon as the words are out, he knows they were a mistake. He winces, anticipating immediate discipline. “I’m sorry, sir!” he cries out reflexively, hoping an abject apology will lessen whatever punishment the headmaster chooses to dispense.</p><p>Pryde grips him by the back of the skull and grinds his face against the desk. “Look here, you piece of shit. You’re the burgeoning pornstar. I’m just trying to help launch your career.” With his other hand, he grabs the gloves he’d removed earlier and balls them up. “Open your mouth, boy. You could do with a gag.”</p><p>He allows Pryde to stuff the gloves in his mouth, reminding himself that any hint of resistance will only make things worse. He keeps his eyes on the holo but stares past the figures, barely registering the sounds of the next boy enjoying his attention. Still, he hears every word Pryde speaks.</p><p>“Your mouth isn’t for talking, anyway. You’d do well to remember that.”</p><p>Dopheld worries the gloves between his teeth, not caring if he damages the leather. It's a useful distraction from the way Pryde is hammering into him, and it may be the one thing keeping him from sobbing aloud. Besides, if Pryde is so cavalier about taking his satisfaction from Dopheld's body, the least he can do is cope with a ruined pair of gloves.</p><p>“Promise me something. Don’t let anyone else in here without my authorisation. Until you graduate, this fuckhole is mine alone to use.” He pulls the gloves from Dopheld’s mouth before sliding his hand below the cadet’s belly and taking hold of his cock. “Understood?”</p><p>Mitaka nods, relieved at the removal of the improvised gag and the warm hand on his erection. “Yes, sir.” He knows he shouldn’t want Pryde to jerk him off, but now that the man’s fingers are wrapped around him, he can’t think of anything else.</p><p>“Oh, my sweet boy,” Pryde murmurs. “You’re being so good for me. So brave. Don’t worry, you shan’t be expelled. You can even carry on with your little play dates. I’m not jealous of those boys, not when I’m the only one who gets to fuck your throat and arse. Save those for me and I’ll make sure to take care of you. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He uses the fingers of his other hand to torment Dopheld’s nipples, which stiffen with each increasingly forceful flick, pinch, and twist. If this is what his care entails, Dopheld isn’t sure if he can stand it, never mind how hard he is.</p><p>Dopheld whines and bucks his hips forward in Pryde’s grip. Things have already happened, they’re still happening, but he wants to at least try to get off. “Please—”</p><p>“Would you like to come, Cadet?” he asks, like it isn’t obvious, like Dopheld isn’t desperate to earn some sort of satisfaction from their encounter.</p><p>He nods. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Then tell me what you are, Mitaka.”</p><p>“Your… your whore, sir.”</p><p>“There’s a good boy. I’m about to fill you up, so you can come once I start.” He kisses Dopheld’s neck again. “Think you can do that? Come on my cock?”</p><p>Dopheld isn’t sure about the timing of his climax, but he’s desperate for relief and figures it would make Pryde happy, so he answers, “Yes, sir. Please, sir.”</p><p>“Good, that’s how sluts should get off. Speared on a dick. And Maker, fuck. You’re a goddamn natural, boy. Such a good little cock-whore, built to take a pounding. Made to be used.” He slaps the side of Dopheld’s ass before digging his fingers into the meat of it. Groaning, he curses, “Fuck, I’m going to—yes, I’m going to bloody <em>breed </em>you like the bitch you are. Just do me one last favour.”</p><p>“Huh?” Dopheld asks, not able to vocalise a proper question or even the word <em>sir</em>.</p><p>“Ask for it. Ask me to come up your arse.”</p><p>He swallows. He squeezes his eyes shut. It’s just one more concession. When he speaks, his voice is barely audible over the sound of Pryde’s body slapping against his, the angry wet noise of his cock pumping inside him. “Please, sir. Please come in me.”</p><p>“You want it, Cadet? You want me to empty my balls in your guts, give you your first serving of spunk?”</p><p>“Yes, sir,” he answers in a pathetic warble. He’s burning with the shame of being so fucking close to orgasm from this. “Please, Headmaster—”</p><p>“Say my full official title, you slag. Scream my fucking title when you’re begging to get knocked up.”</p><p>“Please fucking fill me up, Allegiant General Pryde, sir!”</p><p>“Oh, <em>fuck</em>. Here it is, you greedy thing. Take this fucking load, you pretty little come-dumpster.”</p><p>He whines, partly a sound of protest but mostly of surprise at the sensation of hot fluid spurting inside him. “Oh,” he whispers, defeated at last. “Oh, Maker.”</p><p>“That’s right. I know you love it. So bloody well come for me, now that you’ve served your highest purpose in life.”</p><p>His breath is hot in Dopheld’s ear and something about his insistent confidence, the easy combination of compliment with humiliation, turns Dopheld’s face hot and leaves him gasping through climax. “Sir!” he shouts in mindless surrender. “Allegiant General!”</p><p>“Good boy, Mitaka.” Pryde slowly pulls out, then gives Dopheld’s ass a resounding slap with an open palm. “Mm, there’s a lovely jiggle.” He turns Dopheld around and looks him over critically. “Look at the mess you’ve made, there’s come all over your little tummy. Why don’t you clean it up?”</p><p>Dopheld places a tentative palm on his stomach, giving Pryde a questioning look. He doesn’t want to misstep yet again, not when he’s almost free to go.</p><p>“Scoop it up and suck it off your fingers,” the allegiant general instructs patiently. “Spunk belongs inside you, no matter whose it is.” He smiles patronisingly as Dopheld kitten-licks the mess from his fingertips. “Remember, the only test of your value is how hard you can make men come. That’s all you have to be proud of.” He stretches his arms over his head, popping his shoulders back into alignment. “You may dress and see yourself out now. But I’d like to set up another appointment with you. How does next week sound, same time?”</p><p>Dopheld’s skin prickles and his fingers freeze in the act of pulling up his underpants and trousers. There’s an ache between his cheeks and the numbness that Pryde promised can’t arrive soon enough. He forces himself to fasten his tunic, snap his belt closed, and pat down his uniform. But as he does, he shifts his stance and a dribble of warm liquid leaks out of his sore hole. It must be a mixture of Pryde’s come and lube, and that recognition turns Dopheld’s stomach sour. “Sir?” he asks, somehow managing to sound halfway normal, as though a sticky mess isn’t pooling in his briefs. As though the man responsible isn’t talking about a repeat.</p><p>“What, you didn’t think I was finished with you? Hardly. There’s still so much left to teach. I think we’ll work on stretching that arsehole with some toys. Plugs, dildos. Maybe sink a hook in there, attach it to a collar—that’ll train you how to curve your back properly. Besides, you’ll need regular practise if you don’t want to be wrecked after every fuck.” He flashes the cadet a grin. “By the way, be sure to think of me fondly when you can’t sit down properly tomorrow. Remember what I did to you, how I owned that cunt and will again.”</p><p>He nods crisply. “Yes, sir. Next week, sir.”</p><p>“Excellent. One last thing.” Pryde presses a packet into his hand. “Consider this payment for services rendered. You’ve more than earned it.” He pats the cadet on the back and steers him toward the open door.</p><p>Once the door slides shut behind him, Dopheld stands in the hallway and opens his hand.</p><p>It’s a sealed pack of cigarras.</p>
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